


13 Years, 8 Months, 1 Week, and 4 Days

by suckntuck



Category: Be More Chill
Genre: Anger, Friendship, Gay, Hurt, Im tired, Kissing, M/M, One sided, Other, Recreational Drug Use, Sad, Shotgunning, Weed, idek what else to put for tags, sorry my dudes it ain't happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 16:54:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11384415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckntuck/pseuds/suckntuck
Summary: Today is not a normal day in Michaels basement.





	13 Years, 8 Months, 1 Week, and 4 Days

Today was not like other Fridays. Today was a special Friday. Today marked an important time stamp in the only friendship Michael had that worked. He and Jeremy needed to celebrate. He knew that Jeremy was stopping in after his shift ended, so he was ready to show how good of a friend he was. 

When Michael heard the front door open, he listened to the familiar thud of his best friends footsteps as they made their way down to the basement. "Sup bro!" Michael called from his red bean bag. Jeremy appeared from around the staircase wearing his ugly, brown uniform. 

"Dude, never go into the fast food biz, I've had the worst day," Jeremy replied tiredly, plopping down into his own bean bag. "Some crazy lady had her heart set on a Big Mac and a McFlurry today."

"But you work at Burger King."

"I know," Jeremy groaned. "She was insane though, she was like, yelling and pounding her fists on the counter and I didn't know what to fucking do. The rest of the crew was just standing in the back laughing at me." Jeremy grumbled, throwing his brown BK hat across the floor. 

"Did she ever let up? What did you do?" Michael asked, tuning in intently to the story. 

"I had to argue with her for five fucking minutes until the manager finally came up to deal with it." Jeremy began unbuttoning his uniform shirt, leaving only his white t-shirt. "I have needed a smoke since, and it happened like, as soon as I got there." He rubbed his eyes and slumped back even more. "And then, like an hour later, this woman comes in with six kids, all yelling and fighting and pushing each other, and she was on her fucking cell phone while her infant was latched onto her hair, screaming and crying. She was a bitch too, though I can't blame her. I'd hate my life too with six fucking kids."

Michael was watching his best friend complain with a smile, laughing at his pain like a good buddy should. 

"And then- it gets worse!" Jeremy had a look of insanity plastered on his face. "Then, this kid comes through the drive-thru, in his goddamn Chevy convertible, his music blasting so I couldn't hear him and he couldn't hear me. He apparently asked for chicken nuggets, but I swear he asked for a cheeseburger. So he made me exchange it all, make something new, and then had the audacity to complain about me taking too long. The fucking dickwad still had his music blasting too!" He was really riled up now. "Some shitty song about living a life of poverty and pain. Like, come on dude! You're driving a fucking Camaro at sixteen!" 

Jeremy let out a long, loud groan and threw his shirt across the room where his hat was. He was exhausted from today's events. Judging from the lack of complaints leaving Jeremy's lips, Michael figured that it was safe to assume that Jeremy was done ranting now.

"Well, you're in luck my buddy." Michael grinned, pulling out a bag of five freshly rolled joints from his sweatshirt pocket. He was beaming, obviously excited to be getting stoned today. 

"Damn, hello gorgeous." Jeremy muttered under his breath making direct eye contact with Michael, causing his face to flush and twist into a look of shock. "I mean the joints, man." Jeremy explained. 

"Oh, yeah, of course you do." Michael sputtered out quickly. 

"Anyway," Jeremy cleared his threat and reached for the bag, only to have Michael pull it back. "Aw come on! Light up man, I'm getting desperate here!" He whined, pouting in Michaels direction. 

"Dude, today's a special day though! We gotta celebrate!" Michael exclaimed, sitting up in his beanbag. "You and I have been friends for 13 Years, 8 Months, 1 Week and 4 Days!" 

Jeremy just looked at him, extremely confused. "What?"

"That's 5,000 days Jer-Bear! That's how long we've been friends!" Michael grinned, pulling a joint out and sticking it between his lips. "So, I thought we should celebrate by getting high the same way we did it the first time." 

Jeremy raised an eyebrow, wracking his brain to remember how it all played out. Then, everything fled back to him. The shakiness, the struggling, the coughing, and the greatest feeling in the world. He simply shook his head with a wide smile on his face. "Michael, you can't be saying what I think you are." He laughed out. 

"Oh I am. You, Jeremy Heere, were too much of a pussy to actually smoke the joint yourself. You were afraid it was gonna be too hot or some bullshit like that, so you wanted to try that cool thing you saw in a movie. So we shotgunned the entire time, because you were too scared to take a hit by yourself." Michael said tauntingly. He pulled his lighter out of his sweatshirt pocket and glanced over at Jeremy, who was laughing at himself. 

"I can't believe you. You are an asshole, you know that?" He scooted his beanbag closer to his best friend and watched him as he lit the joint. 

Michael felt the familiar warmth run throw his body as he inhaled, taking a long drag before leaning in towards Jeremy, who was already in the right position. As soon as he began to blow the smoke out, Jeremy burst into fits of laughter. 

"Dude! What the fuck? You totally ruined the first hit! That's always the best one!" Michael called out, a little upset, but mostly humored. "You ruined the moment, too, man! It's not the same now!" 

Jeremy simply continued to laugh. "I'm sorry, Michael. It's just hard for me to get back in that headspace, y'know? It's been a long time since I was scared to smoke a joint." He began calming down, shaking his head again. 

"This is important, Jer!" Michael whined, putting the joint back to his lips. "Calm down, get yourself together dude." 

Jeremy took a few deep breaths and finally was back to his usual, slightly sulking self. He leaned in close to Michael, his eyes on the others lips as they drew in more smoke. 

Michael made sure that this hit was big, before pulling the joint away. He felt the smoke pooling in his lungs and closed his eyes, leaning in as close as he could, without letting his lips touch Jeremy's. 

Everything was hitting Michael all at once now. He was here, his lips literally millimeters away from his best friends. He had some definite feelings for Jeremy, and he wasn't sure if Jeremy felt the same. Yet here they were, as close to kissing as two people can get without actually touching, and it drove Michael crazy. He opened his eyes and saw that Jeremy had closed his, pure bliss evident as he inhaled. He pulled on Michael's arm, keeping the other boy close to him as he drew in the whole hit. 

Michael wasn't in his right mind, and before he could think twice, he was connecting their lips. He kissed his best friend, who he was in love with.  
For Michael, everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Jeremy's lips on his felt right, with the smell and taste of pot still in his nose and on his tastebuds. The feeling of Jeremy touching him, his grip tightening on his arm as Michael's hand cupped the others face. He felt like he had chosen just the right moment to do this. Michael knew now that he loved Jeremy like he hadn't loved anyone before. Michael was in heaven, and he didn't think that anything could ruin the beauty of this momen- 

"Michael! What the fuck?" Jeremy exclaimed, pulling away aggressively. He had felt the gap between them close and he panicked. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't move, but he most certainly knew he didn't want to stay there. His best friend just kissed him! He was actually kissing him, and not just a shotgunning accidental kiss. A real, sloppy, sucking face kiss. Like the ones you see in those old Hollywood movies. 

Jeremy coughed out the smoke, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Did you just kiss me?"

Michaels face felt hot and he felt lightheaded. The room felt way too small, and his stomach tossed and turned with nerves. "I- I didn't-" 

"What gave you the right to do that?" Jeremy seemed furious, but also confused and helpless at the same time. 

"I- I thought-" Michaels voice cracked, and he felt defeated and embarrassed. "I thought you- I don't know." He muttered, pulling at his worn out sweatshirt sleeves. He was shaking, and his heart felt as if it was about to jump from its designated spot and climb up his throat. 

"Are you- Do you like..." Jeremy took a deep breath and stared at his feet. He had so many questions running through his mind. Most of them started with the word 'Why'. "Michael?" He asked, calmly and quietly. 

"I'm sorry." Michael whispered, a tear escaping his eye. He quickly wiped it away with his sweatshirt sleeve before taking in a shaky breath. "I thought that you might have wanted me to do that." He was mumbling and blubbering and there was a loud ringing in his ears, telling him to just get out of this situation. 

Jeremy didn't know what to do. Michael Mell just kissed him, and as much as he wanted to spare his best friends feelings, he couldn't He didn't feel the way Michael did. He didn't love Michael the way Michael loved him. "I'm not gay." He spat, the words sounding much more harsh than he meant them too. 

Michaels heart shattered. He could take the rejection, he really could. But Jeremy sounded so bitter and angry. That's what he couldn't take. "I think you should go." He whispered, the last bit of composure he had escaping with the words. 

Jeremy had nothing more to say. He couldn't. He didn't know how to handle something like this. So instead of trying to handle it, he simply got up, gathered his things, and left. 

As Jeremy left, he hugged his uniform close to his body, staring blankly at the sidewalk in front of him. 

Meanwhile, Michael sat in the same spot for three more hours, crying and questioning himself. 

Neither of them spoke to the other for the rest of the weekend.


End file.
